


Straight Shots Off the Blue Dot

by neerdowellwolf



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Hooking up on the road, M/M, Rookie Year, Top golf Top Matthew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neerdowellwolf/pseuds/neerdowellwolf
Summary: "I can't believe you got whipped cream," Matthew says, trying to sweep past the way his blood is pumping hard through his veins."Why?" Jack smiles. "Cause I'm sweet enough already?"-You just don’t go around hooking up with your little brother’s best friend’s little brother. Right?
Relationships: Jack Hughes/Matthew Tkachuk
Comments: 15
Kudos: 215





	Straight Shots Off the Blue Dot

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, everyone, this just leaves Jack/Brady and all four Tkachuk/Hughes pairings will be written. Who will be the hero we all need and step up to the plate?
> 
> Title from Sex With Me by Rihanna (sort of)

**Unknown Number**  
_Hey it's jack_

Matthew squints at his phone. He's sprawled out on his couch, half watching the Sens game when his phone buzzes against his leg. He thinks it might be Hanny at first, texting that he's coming over, but it's not. It's "Jack."

He wants to reply "Jack who?" But he knows who it is, since they’re playing the Devils on Friday. Before he’s even decided how to respond two more texts roll in. 

**Unknown Number**  
_We have a day off in town tomorrow_

_Want to show me around_

__

__

Matthew snorts. The kid's bold. He supposes they sort of know each other. Quinn lived with Brady and his dad for two years, spent holidays and breaks with them more than once. That makes them something, even if he doesn't know what that is. 

**Matthew**  
_Hey, sure. I can come grab you around one. Westin? _

**Unknown Number**  
_Sweet man!_

__

__

_Can't wait_

Matthew isn’t sure he can say the same; he’s unsure how he feels. The last time they’d seen each other was at Quinn and Brady’s draft. Their families had run into each other in the lobby of their hotel and Matthew had ended up next to Jack, making small talk. He flips over to look at Jack's insta, trying to get a better sense of his vibe, but he barely gets to him signing his ELC before he starts to feel weird. They don’t realy know each other, but he guesses they will after tomorrow. Matthew wonders why he texted. Brady probably told him to. It’s the kind of thing Brady does. 

He puts his phone down and tries to concentrate on the game. 

-

Matthew texts when he pulls up at the hotel. He rolls down his window as the valet approaches his car. "Just picking someone up."

"Mr. OT!" The valet shouts, looking so genuinely thrilled Matthew rolls his window the rest of the way down to fist bump him. “Through the legs? That was nice. I saw that, it was nice.”

"Thanks, man," Matthew says. The guy probably wants a picture but this hotel is too fancy to let their employees ask, so he ambles away. 

Matthew turns and sees Jack scanning for his car, nodding and smiling when he sees him. His face is familiar after this summer, when you couldn't turn on the NHL Network without seeing him. He looks smaller than he expected. Whatever the Devils are listing him at, they're probably lying. 

"Sup man," Jack says as he opens the door, briefly allowing the freezing cold wind inside. 

"Sup," Matthew says. He puts his car in drive right away, just to give him something to do. "Bet you're real glad you got a day off in Calgary in November huh?"

"Better than Winnipeg," Jack says, laughing easily.

"What'dyou know about Winnipeg?" 

Jack laughs again and pushes against Matthew's arm. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Why would I … what…" Matthew stammers. They’re not even on the road and he already feels like he’s missed a step. He turns on Jack's seat warmer for him and Jack grins. 

-

"Ok," Matthew says, and takes a sip of his coffee. The walk from the Starbucks back to his car was barely 30 feet, but still enough to let the cold take hold in his limbs. "Anything specific you wanted to see?"

"Yeah, I had something in mind," Jack says. 

Matthew scrolls through his playlists. "Enlighten me." Jack doesn't respond, so Matthew glances up to see him swiping his finger across the whipped cream on top of his drink. He wraps his lips around his fingertip and sucks on it, hollowing his cheeks. The effect is positively pornographic. 

"Can't believe you got whipped cream," he says to try to sweep past the way his blood is pumping. 

"Why?" Jack smiles. "Cause I'm sweet enough already?" 

Matthew snorts and takes a sip of his coffee; almond milk, no sugar. "Because there's no way it's in your diet plan."

Jack shrugs. "You don't have to be good all the time, Matthew."

The way Jack says his name makes the hair on his arm stand on end and his pulse race. He suddenly feels like he needs to be careful. Really fucking careful.

"Ok, so Calgary," Matthew says. "What do you want to see?"

"Already looking at it," Jack says, his voice low and sultry. Matthew probably shouldn't be using the word sultry to describe his voice. 

"Ha ha," Matthew says and doesn't turn his head as he pulls out of the parking lot, doesn’t want to risk seeing what Jack looks like right now. "Golf it is."

-

As far as Matthew can tell Jack flirts as easily and often as most people breathe. He flirts with the cashier at Starbucks, the concierge at TopGolf, the guy next to them in the elevator. Finally, maybe most of all, he flirts with Matthew. 

Matthew tries not to play along. Jack is, after all, his little brother's best friend's little brother. A distinction that's growing both more important and meaningless every time he repeats it in his head. And he does a lot. He repeats it when Jack bends over to put his ball on the tee and arches his back while glancing back. When he squeezes Matthew’s bicep after he makes a long drive, and most of all when he laughs, eyes sparkling and locked right on him. 

He works hard to keep his eyes glued to his phone as Jack gets up again, leaning over to place his ball. There's no way his joggers are team issue, not with the way they cling to his ass. They’re making Matthew think all sorts of inappropriate things. Like how Jack would look out of them, how he'd look on his knees. God, Matthew is going to hell. Brady's going to send him there. Or Quinn will have Tanev do it. Any way you look at it, Matthew is fucked. You just don’t go around hooking up with your brother’s friend’s brother. Right?

"Sliced it," Matthew says to Jack after he drives another ball far to his right.

"You should get up here and give me some pointers," Jack says, wiggling his hips. 

Matthew chokes on his water. “No, you’re good.” He really hopes they serve beer in hell. 

-

“Fuck,” Matthew says watching his last ball bounce sadly past the 100 yard marker. He turns and goes to sit, but Jack slides over on the bench, so that Matthew is all but standing between his legs. Matthew swallows and tries not to think about it, but then Jack looks up at him and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. It feels impossible not to stare at his mouth, his lips lush and wet, and think about how they might feel around him. He tries to push that thought from his head, but Jack is still there, pressing his thigh into Matthew’s knee. 

"Are you gonna take me home or what?" Jack asks, his voice soft.

Matthew swallows, but does his best to try to seem chill, despite the fact that he's already imagining what Jack might look like naked and spread out on his bed. "Sure, I can take you back to the hotel."

"I don't wanna go back to the hotel," Jack says, his voice huskier than before. Matthew wonders if he had to work on sounding like that or if it comes naturally. "I want you to take me _home_," Jack says and the way he says home leaves no room for interpretation, as much as Matthew wishes it did.

He takes a step back, just to put some distance between them. He can't do this. "Our brothers are basically brothers," Matthew says, his mouth dry. Jack smirks up at him. 

"Q lived with Brady and your dad," he says matter of factly, then lowers his voice again. "That has nothing to do with us."

"Brady would still kill me," Matthew says. Jack just shrugs. Matthew laughs. "Jesus ok just gonna leave me out to dry?"

Jack smiles. "Nothing I can do about it."

"Come on, let's go. You're eighteen right." Matthew cringes. He could fucking die. Jack grins. "Not for that!"

Jack shoves his shoulder lightly. "Whatever reason you're asking, I'm eighteen."

Matthew picks up both their clubs and heads towards the exit. "Ok good, I need a beer." 

-

Matthew realizes he's made a mistake as soon as they settle into a booth with their drinks. The brewery is bright enough, mostly empty midday on a Wednesday, but Jack chooses a corner booth, it's small enough their knees keep bumping into each other. 

He tries not to watch Jack's throat work as he drinks his beer, but close like this it's hard to find anything to distract him. 

"I'm not some kid you know," Jack says. "I'm in the show."

Matthew laughs. It's such an 18 year old thing to say, even if most rookies don't have his confidence. He supposes that bravado is reserved for first overalls. 

"Ok, rookie," Matthew says.

Jack ducks his head and looks up at him through his eyelashes. “NHL rookie, though.” Matthew tries his best not to be charmed. 

They talk about nothing for a while. About what shows they're watching, training in Toronto, the horrible shower set up in Washington. Matthew relaxes as he finds himself enjoying the conversation. Jack is a lot like Quinn, just dialed up. More brash and loud. 

Matthew lets his guard down. 

"I've thought about it you know," Jack says. His knee knocks against Matthew's and he leaves it there. Matthew doesn't move either. He should, but he doesn't. 

Matthew shouldn't ask, but he wants to know. "Thought about what?" 

"You," Jack says and lets that single word linger in the air. Matthew is so fucked. "At Quinny's draft, you looked so good."

Matthew laughs. "I wore a polo under my blazer. My dad was so pissed."

"You looked hot." Jack leans forward, so he has to look up at Matthew through his eyelashes. He's pretty, and he knows it. "But you didn't notice me."

"I'm pretty sure we talked," Matthew says. He focuses on peeling the layers of a coaster apart, rather than look at Jack directly. "Hard not to notice the next first overall."

"Yeah, but you didn't notice me." Jack says, he pushes his leg against Matthew's to punctuate his point. 

"I should hope not, you were like 16." 

Jack laughs, like he's delighted by Matthew's response. "What about now, have you noticed me now?" 

"I shouldn't," Matthew can feel the last tendrils of self control slip away. Up close Jack's eyes are really, really blue. 

"Sounds like you have." Jack grins again. Matthew wants to pretend he’s wrong.

"Brady and I are friends on snapchat," Jack barrels on. "He posted you a bunch this summer, like, shirtless on the lake." 

"Yeah, you like what you see?" Matthew says, mostly joking, but Jack smiles at him, crooked and sly. 

"You looked big,” he says. He lets it hang between them and holds Matthew’s stare. A waitress walks by with a basket of fries and the smell lingers in the air. “It’s ok that you want me too,” Jack says. His mouth is half open and it should look stupid, but instead it looks good. Matthew thinks about sliding his thumb across his lips. If Jack would let him slide it past. 

Matthew can feel himself blushing. It’s so fucking humilating. “No one said I wanted you.” He tries to layer as much swagger in his voice as he can. 

“Yeah, but,” Jack ducks his head a little and nudges Matthew’s leg with his knee. “You haven’t said that, just that you shouldn’t.” 

God he shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t, but somehow when Jack stands up Matthew finds himself pulling some cash out of his wallet and throwing it on the table. Jack smiles again and runs his eyes up and down Matthew’s body before turning and walking towards the exit. Matthew follows. 

-

They’re barely into Matthew’s apartment when Jack pushes him against the wall. Matthew has one shoe kicked off and the other half on, but Jack is already shoving his freezing cold hands under Matthew's hoodie. 

"Jesus," Matthew gasps at the feeling of Jack's cold fingers against his belly. "Slow down."

"Don't wanna slow down," Jack says, sliding his hands around to Matthew's back and stepping in between his legs. He's wearing Armani, but not too much. Less than Matthew did at his age. 

"So what do you want?" Matthew winds his hands around Jack's back and tucks his fingers into the waistband of his joggers. His skin feels warm and smooth. 

"Want you to touch me." He hitches his hips against Matthew's dick, half hard already. He looks up at Matthew, his eyes wide and blue. "Are you gonna kiss me or what?" Jack says and gnaws at his bottom lip.

"Do you want me to touch you or kiss you?" Matthew says, just to be a dick. Jack rolls his eyes, but smiles when Matthew brings one hand up to thread through his hair. He’s still smiling when Matthew kisses him. 

Jack kisses him back desperate and over eager, all enthusiasm, no pacing. Matthew isn't really used to being the one to slow things down, so he just goes with it. It's sloppy, but it feels good. Jack kisses like he's focused on chasing his own pleasure and Matthew doesn't mind, enjoys the ride. 

While they make out, Matthew unbuttons Jack's coat and pushes it off his shoulders. It lands with a loud thunk on the floor. His phone was probably in the pocket, but Jack doesn’t seem bothered, winding his arms around Matthew's neck. They keep kissing, Jack whining low in his throat and pulling himself closer. 

Jack leans back, just enough for Matthew to still feel the ghost of his breath. "I'm not a virgin," he says, a low purr in his voice.

"Yeah, not really a surprise," Matthew says, but he’s a little lost in the constellation of moles scattered across Jack’s face. 

Jack grins. "Are you?" he asks. 

“Am I a virgin?” Matthew snorts. 

Jack presses himself even closer to Matthew. He looks flushed and Matthew wants to absolutely ruin him. “You could be a virgin, you missed all the signals I was throwing you.”

“Oh I didn’t miss them, trust me,” Matthew says. He steps back and heads down the hall, pulling Jack behind him by his shirt sleeve. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

When they’re in Matthew’s bedroom Jack closes the door behind him with his foot and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Doing the right thing is overrated,” he says and strips off his t-shirt, finally giving Matthew a chance to really look at him. He’s lean, with way more abs than Matthew has ever had in his life. His skin is pale and the moles continue down his shoulders, Matthew wants to get his mouth on them. 

“I sure hope so,” Matthew says and tries his best to push all thoughts of their families from his mind. He beckons Jack closer and Jack obliges. 

Once again Jack takes the lead, undressing Matthew and then himself with single minded focus. Without their winter coats on Matthew can feel how much smaller Jack is against him. He has to bend down to kiss him and he likes the way Jack feels tucked into him, saying Matthew’s name against his mouth as he hitches his dick up Matthew’s thigh. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Jack whispers.

Matthew coughs. “Go big or go home, eh,” he says shaking his head. Before he can even think through what a terrible idea this probably is, Jack is crawling across his bed and arranging himself against the pillows, one arm stretched over his head and the other stroking his dick. It’s like the rest of him; long and lean, completely average looking and beautiful at the same time. 

“Come on,” Jack says, that huskiness back in his voice. “Wanna see what you got.”

“Not worried you’ll feel it for the game?” Matthew pulls his lube and a condom out of his bedside table and tosses it on the bed. The condom lands on Jack’s thigh and he brushes it off. 

“I like to feel it,” Jack says. He reaches for Matthew, tugging at his shoulder and kissing him as he settles his body over Jack’s. Matthew sighs at the feeling of their skin against each other, lighting him up from the inside out. 

Getting his fingers into Jack is nothing short of a revelation. He’s so tight, but Matthew strokes his hip soothingly and feels it as Jack starts to relax around his knuckles. Jack’s chest is heaving and flushed and he has one arm thrown over his face, so all Matthew can see is his mouth, open in an o shape, like he’s surprised. 

Matthew squeezes more lube on his fingers where they’re working their way inside Jack and adds a third. Jack gasps but thrusts his hips into it. He looks pretty like this, that’s the only word Matthew can think of. His cheeks are pink and his hair is a mess, but debauched is a look that works on him. Matthew takes his arm and pulls it away from his face. “Hey let me see you,” he says. 

“Like what you see?” Jack asks and rolls his hips, taking Matthew's fingers deeper. 

“Unbelievable,” Matthew chuckles. He brushes his fingers over Jack’s prostate and Jack arches his back off the bed with a yell. 

“Ok, ok, I'm ready," Jack gasps, wiggling away from Matthew. 

"Alright rookie," Matthew says and picks up the condom. He's barely started to try ripping it open with his slippery fingers when Jack plucks it out of his hands. 

"Lay down, I got it." 

A second ago Jack was laid out on the bed half out of his mind, but now he’s pushing Matthew where he wants him, arranging his legs and directing him to sit further up on the pillows. 

“You gonna ride me?” Matthew asks, just to say something. 

“Maybe,” Jack says as he rolls the condom down Matthew’s dick. That touch is enough to set Matthew on edge, so he runs through his last three failed shootout attempts in his head to try to get back under control. Jack gives his dick a quick pump with his hand, head cocked to the side watching his hand. “Maybe I’m going to do something really cool you’ve never even heard of.”

“Oh yeah like what? The ship captain? The groundhog? The eel and the toad?” 

“No, but I want to,” Jack pauses as he reaches back to line Matthew up. He keeps talking as he sinks down, his voice catching. “You’ll have to show me those next time.”

Next time. Brady really is going to kill Matthew if they keep this up. 

“I know it’s called reverse cowgirl,” Jack continues. He’s fully seated on Matthew’s dick now, not quite moving, but shifting his hips minutely. “Does that make this just cowgirl?”

“No fucking idea,” Matthew says, overwhelmed. Jack is so hot and tight around him, Matthew really really wants to move, but Jack is pressing his palms into Matthew’s chest and gnawing on his lip. “You alright there rookie?”

“Yeah, it’s just.” Jack raises himself up and drops back down. “A lot.” 

Matthew lets himself feel smug about that. He knows he’s not the biggest guy in the world, but he’s above average and he’ll accept it. He runs his palms up Jack’s thighs. “You said you wanted to feel it.” Jack full on winks at him and Matthew’s dick twitches, which given their current situation, is fucking embarassing. 

Jack really starts to move after that, rolling his hips and throwing his head back. Matthew can't take his eyes off him, the way his whole body flows from the movement of his hips. Matthew desperately wants to thrust up into him, but he stays still, letting Jack do his thing. It feels amazing and looks even better. 

Jack scratches his fingernails on Matthew’s chest and looks down at him with hooded eyes. "Kinda lazy, Chucky." 

“Allright showoff,” Matthew says and flips them over, so Jack is spread out under him. He pushes back in and Jack arches his back and groans. Matthew presses his face into the column of Jack’s throat, the smell of cologne and sweat filling his nose. He bites down as he builds into a rhythm. 

“Fuck,” Jack gasps. “Fuck, fuck, Matthew, oh my god.” He reaches up his hand and grasps at Matthew’s shoulder and then his neck, so Matthew takes his wrist in his hand and pushes it into the sheets. It feels so small in his hand, delicate for a hockey player. It does something to Matthew’s insides, so he takes his other hand and wraps it around Jack’s dick. 

It’s leaking at the tip and sweaty from where it’s been pressed between their bodies. Jack bucks when Matthew tightens his grip. He’s babbling now, a string of curse words mixed with “more” and “harder” and “please.” Matthew picks up his pace, pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in, savoring the way Jack writhes under him. 

“I’m gonna come,” Jack says, sounding absolutely wrecked. “Want you to kiss me.”

Matthew would probably do anything he asked at this moment, so he leans down and presses their foreheads together. It’s murder on his arm to hold himself up like this while still keeping his other hand working Jack’s dick, but it’s worth it to hear the small noices Jack makes as Matthew thrusts into him, like he's fucking the noises out of him. “Come on, come for me, rookie," he says, feeling out of breath. 

Matthew kisses him when he feels Jack start to tighten up around him. Jack moans into his mouth, loud enough to be obscene. He slows down a little as Jack comes down, his movements slowing. Jack blinks up at Matthew and stretches his arm above his head. “Don’t stop, I like to feel it.”

“Jesus,” Matthew says, but does as he says, again. Jack wraps his arms around Matthew and pulls him even closer. Matthew can hear the small gasps as he fucks into him. 

“Want you to come,” Jack says and his voice sounds so wrecked that Matthew's hips stutter and he comes just like that, pleasure exploding through him. 

He rolls off him and lays there, chest heaving and head fuzzy. Jack leans into him, his body sticky with sweat. “That was so hot. Way better than expected.”

Matthew laughs. This fucking kid. “Low expectations coming in?”

Jack scrapes his teeth across Matthew’s shoulder. “Not low, just not,” he pauses, “that.”

“Thanks for the review, be sure to leave five stars.” 

"Liked and subscribed," Jack slurs, his eyes starting to drift shut. 

"Hey what time do you have to be back?" Matthew doesn't want to be the responsible one, but someone has to. 

"Ten, it's fine," Jack says. He throws his arm across Matthew's stomach and promptly passes out. 

Matthew thinks about setting an alarm, but he doesn’t want to move to get his phone. He closes his eyes and lets Jack’s even breathing lull him to sleep. He'll worry about it later.


End file.
